Wedding Night Story Novels & Stories

My mother-in-law spreads lies about me having contracted an STD during my sister-in-law's wedding. When I hear this, I want to demand an explanation. However, my sister-in-law stops me and begs me to prioritize her happiness since it's her wedding. I hold myself back and wait until the reception is over. Later, my mother-in-law merely sweeps the matter under the rug and say she doesn't remember anything because she was drunk. However, the lies spread like wildfire. My neighbors scorn me, and my colleagues isolate me, treating me like a walking bacteria. I become dispirited from the constant mental distress and end up getting knocked by a car when I leave the house one day. I die from the accident. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my mother-in-law lies about me having contracted an STD.

Crown Prince James Reynolds felt love in an unusual set-up, with another Prince, Raphael of Ayatullah. A relationship that shaken the foundation of Royal Families during that era. It urge several military and political struggles, those years also brought pain and tears to the couple for losing families and loyal friends caused by territorial expansions of neighboring countries when He took the Kingship. But this struggles reshape and redefine Monarchy when the relationship was accepted by the people which made possible by acceptance for the people. Witness the genesis of a new Kingdom.

Alexander is a college student known as a playboy and belongs to the group of famous bullies at their university. He was happy and contented about hooking up girls from left to right that making his mother's head hurt. But then, his world suddenly changes when they go to the province as a punishment for his bad doings. He will meet Verna, the daughter of his cousin's housemaid. One fine morning, he just woke up naked next to that woman and the worst part is Verna's father and ten brothers caught them in that position. And their love story begins in the most epic way, "The Shot Gun Wedding".

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

Lola Gregg is a beautiful young lady, from an affluent home, trying to find her place in the middle of an over expectant family. Facing a lot of pressure, she wants to follow her dreams of a being a designer, a success in the world of fashion,but her parents would have none of it, but deep within lies secrets that could change her life forever Would she make it,despite all odds? Go on and find out...

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me. But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant. Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake. On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out. I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him. Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years. When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance." "There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway." After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization. "Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for being too fat, stretching the dress until it tore." Still crouching on the floor, I watched the two of them behave intimately. My gaze turned cold. The dress was ruined, and so was my dream. It was time to wake up.

I had been the biggest pushover in our circle. In the years I had worked as a wedding planner, I had dipped into my own pocket every time a friend got married to make sure she received the very best of everything. A newcomer named Sloane Halliday arrived one day. "30,000 dollars for one wedding? Laurel, that markup is outrageous." A friend tried to smooth things over. "That was already the friends-and-family rate. Venue rental alone cost that much anywhere else." Sloane rolled her eyes. "Friends-and-family rate? Give me a break. "My family ran a wedding supply chain. I knew exactly how this racket worked. "Tell you what. From now on, all of you bring your weddings to me. "I will get you the same specs, real wholesale pricing. Only 500 dollars, all in." The room erupted. "500 dollars? That saved tens of thousands. "We were giving all our weddings to Sloane from now on. "And Laurel, do not take it personally. We go way back. You really should not be pocketing the difference." Pocketing the difference? For every friend whose wedding I had planned, I had pulled every favor I had to make her the most beautiful bride in the room. The top-tier teams I brought in did not even take outside clients. Sure. That was fine with me. If 500 dollars was all it took for a complete wedding, then they were welcome to find out exactly what a 500-dollar wedding looked like.